


Skipstreet

by GhostTEETH



Category: Original Work
Genre: Depression, Gen, Horror, Inspired by Silent Hill 2, Medication, Other, POV Second Person, Religious Cults, The Ritual, Trauma, Walks In The Woods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:49:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25302604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostTEETH/pseuds/GhostTEETH
Summary: You know your brother went into the woods.You just don't know how far.
Kudos: 1





	Skipstreet

**Author's Note:**

> Aggressively avoids working on my other fics that people are waiting to be updated

You'd told him not to go into the woods before, but that had never stopped him. He knew the dangers of the woods, especially at night, but he didn't care. Or maybe he wanted to return to the church, and you just ignored it. Which you shouldn't have, especially considering he went into the woods regularly.

No matter the reason, he hadn't come back, and you were going after him.

Hiking boots laced up tight, rucksack filled with the necessary supplies, you set off a quarter after six AM.

Your brother had very specific trails he stuck to, thankfully, so you kept an eye out for any possible tracks he would've left. It had rained last night (a major factor in your concern, he hated rain, but hadn't even called) and the ground was still relatively wet.

After about an hour, you saw a bootprint, leading towards the river.

_That's gotta be him._

You followed the tracks, noticing they were getting... farther apart? Was he running?

And then you noticed there were more tracks near his.

And you started running, too.

If they had found him, what would they do to him? Would they hurt him? Torture him? Would they come after you?

You didn't even notice the forest getting thicker as you chased the tracks, and you didn't notice the fog, or the signs posted to the trees.

You came to an almost clearing. In front of you stood a sheer clifface, behind you the forest, and around you was a few boulders, a run-down hunter's cabin, and broken trees.

In front of you, just by the cabin, you could see a bloody, bright orange jacket, one you knew belonged to your brother.

You weakly called his name, walking forward, your heart in your throat. He seemed to stir, ever so slightly, and you quickly closed the distance, kneeling next to him to check him for injuries.

He mumbled your name, his eyes barely open.

A large gash on his head shimmered in the light, the wound looking fresh. You could tell his nose was broken, and you were afraid to roll him over.

He whispered something, and you leaned closer, asking him to repeat what he'd said.

"It's... here."

You looked around, and now you could see the bones, picked clean, shoved in between rocks and under the cabin. You could see a crude painting on one of the rocks, and you realized what danger you were in.

And then you heard the gurgling behind you.


End file.
